


Look Out for the Lanky Lads

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: Big Boys [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, Drarry, M/M, Top Harry, scheming Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: Draco is a stunningly sexy spider, and Harry is a juicy fly with one wing stuck in Draco's web.(Or, Draco lies, confesses, lies some more, and schemes all in a day's work. Oh, yeah, Draco also has dinner at the Weasleys and acquires a new best friend).





	1. Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> **Draco Malfoy, unreliable narrator extraordinaire. 
> 
>  
> 
> If you read any of my other fic then you might recognize Linky the house elf. Linky is a goddess among elves!! Praise Linky!!!!

Draco was over the moon. He’d just stepped into his flat, having whooshed through Harry Potter’s floo. The smile fled Draco’s face as he registered the state of his living quarters and remembered the fight that had driven him to the pub last night.

Patrick had accused Draco of many indecencies during their time together, but last night Draco had finally had enough. Apparently, Draco was a cheater because he hadn’t fallen in love with Patrick yet. Draco was a freak because of the things that made him throbbing hard. Draco was a slut because he enjoyed the occasional trip into muggle London to lose himself in a mass of writhing homosexual bodies. 

Well, screw Patrick, Draco thought, Potter is a much better lay anyway. 

Draco called for Linky, his house elf. Normally, Draco had her stay at the manor with the other Malfoy elves, to help his parents keep up the giant place, but these were extreme circumstances. 

“Master—oh, my!” Linky gasped. 

“Yes,” Draco said. “I require your services.” 

“Linky sees that, sir,” she said, nodding as her huge eyes scrutinized the small space. Well, small compared to the manor, that was. Large in comparison to Potter’s dinky studio flat. 

“I’m sorry to pull you away from your other duties, but I’m sure Mistress Narcissa will understand. You are my house elf.” 

“It’s being no problem, sir!”

Draco retreated to the shower, confident in Linky’s abilities to remove any evidence of Patrick’s sorry self from Draco’s life. After all, any reminders of the other wizard were smashed or torn or burned to ashes and scattered around Draco’s living room. 

In the shower, Draco began to smirk to himself. The satisfaction ate away at his face until all he could do was release peels of cold laughter. Patrick’s stupid expression, Draco recalled as he wheezed in the steamy air. The pudgy pink horror as Draco’s 4,000 gallon china vase had broken across it. 

Oh, and what sweet revenge it was, to have a night and morning stuffed full of Savior cock. Nothing like a swell and hard shag to make one forget all about their exes. 

“Hah!” Draco spat water from his mouth. To think, Patrick had called Draco mentally unstable and abusive. No, Patrick was the one always holding Draco back with his constant jealousy and verbal abuse. Draco would prosper now, without those meaty fingers constantly wrapped around his wrist. 

Besides, Draco had never denied that he could be a bit manipulative himself. Patrick, on the other hand, had claimed ignorance in constantly using words to mold Draco’s feelings toward him. Patrick didn’t attend Hogwarts, having moved from America in his late teens, but Draco would bet anything the Sorting Hat would label him Slytherin. Any time Draco would ask Patrick to remove his shirt, Patrick’s huffy mood and self-pitiful words would cause Draco to lose determination. Draco’s parents may have made a few mistakes, but one thing Draco was sure they did right was marrying each other. As his mother had told him when he first started dating Patrick: partnerships are not supposed to make you feel that way. 

These last thoughts sobered Draco’s giddy mood a bit, and when he stepped from the shower only a slip of a smirk graced his face. Draco dried off and poured himself a tumble of gin from a decanter that sat on his bathroom counter and refilled itself when necessary. Nothing better, Draco swore, than a shot straight from the steamy shower to catch a buzz.

Oh, apparently, Draco was a drunkard as well. As if anyone who had participated in the war didn’t have a few every now and again. Sorry Patrick, Draco’s brain supplied savagely, if you were hiding in the shadows while some of us suffered in the heat of battle. Besides, it’s not like Draco was constantly as smashed as he’d been last night. What he’d told Potter was true. Draco wasn’t usually drunk when he had sex with Patrick. Draco was tipsy perhaps, but it had nothing to do with Patrick’s weight, and everything to do with constantly running from scary memories.

So, maybe Draco had lied twice to Potter during the night. Draco did partake in drink before sex, because Draco partook before doing anything. Ah well, at least Draco had admitted to one of his lies. That was one more confession than he was used to giving.

After another shot, and finishing the rest of his routine, Draco sauntered from the warm room with his blond hair pinned in a tasteful bun at the back of his head. He dressed in casual, but expensive muggle clothes, and packed his satchel for a day at his favorite café. 

Draco liked venturing into muggle London, because he could enter elite, upper-class establishments without glares that told him to exit again. Money made Draco just as important in the muggle world as it used to in the Wizarding one. Although, soon, Draco thought, I’ll have my fangs in Harry and I’ll be back where I belong. 

Draco apparated near the café, strolled in the front door, and ignored the queue as he sat as his usual table. 

“Coffee, black,” Draco announced as he pulled out his novel. The waitress that had barely made it to his table started to back away again. “Wait,” Draco said and she froze. “I want an Irish whiskey, too. The best you’ve got.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, resuming her descent. “Right away.”

Draco enjoyed two glasses of coffee and whiskey, and a salad with poppy seeds and strawberries. He spent over four hours lounging and picking at it as he read his book and wrote a letter to Pansy. At three in the afternoon, Draco sighed and tucked his things away. Before Draco left, he stopped his waitress and asked her a question.

“Say,” Draco started. “What would you wear if you were going on a date with someone you wanted to impress, but the date was at a poor person’s house?”

“Jeans, and a nice, low-cut blouse?” she replied, and strolled away with his empty tableware. 

Sighing, Draco left his patient waitress a large tip and went home. 

Linky was still cleaning when Draco returned. Although, she moved on from the mess in his living room to basic scrubbing and washing that Draco had been ignoring. Draco made himself a dry martini and sipped it as he browsed his wardrobe. What to wear to a dinner at the Weasleys?

Nothing too flashy, Draco was sure. Although, for Potter, he wanted to look his best. There lie Draco’s dilemma. In a blur of martinis, movement, and mirrors, Draco soon had a pile of rumpled clothes stacked to his hips and still hadn’t decided on an outfit. Quite tipsy by now, and running out of time, Draco huffed and donned a pair of acid washed jeans and plain cotton v-neck. If he was slumming with Weasleys, muggle attire was sure to be okay. Besides, the tight, stretchy jeans made his bum look great and the black color of the T-shirt made his pale skin stand out. 

Draco poured another martini, but, at the last moment, forwent drinking it. The last thing he needed was to act a drunken fool in front of Ron Weasley. Draco bid Linky goodbye, and sent a handful of powder into his floo. Not two seconds later, Potter’s head flickered among green flames. 

“Hello, there,” Potter said. His smile was shy and Draco had a sudden, strange urge to purr like a cat.

“Hullo,” Draco said.

“Want me to come through?” Potter said.

Draco thought of the mountain of clothes, the decanter of gin in his restroom, and the four empty martini glasses strewn about random places that he could not remember. “Move out of the way, Potter,” Draco replied. 

A handful of powder and Draco whooshed back into Potter’s flat. It seemed the same as when Draco departed this morning, only there was a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchenette. 

“I thought we were to go to the Weasleys?” Draco asked, as Potter offered him a seat on the futon. 

“We are,” Potter said, sitting next to Draco but keeping his distance. 

Draco frowned and moved closer to Potter, taking Potter’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Potter became statue like and stared at their entwined body parts. Draco’s heart started to beat faster. Draco was so, so stupid, letting himself grow optimistic after two bloody shags. Of course, Potter had changed his mind. Of course. Of course. Of course. 

“I told them I was bringing a date,” Potter said, and the soft tone caught Draco’s attention. 

“And?”

“You’re my date, right?” Potter questioned, still staring at their clasped hands. “I mean, we’re dating?”

What is that? Draco frantically wondered. A trick question?

Perhaps Draco should have had that last martini. It probably would have entered his blood stream by now and he would be climbing in Potter’s lap in reply. Surely that would have answered all Potter’s questions. 

Instead, Draco said, “yes,” hoping it was what Potter wanted to hear. 

Potter finally gazed at Draco’s face. Green eyes shifted back and forth between Draco’s grey ones, before sliding down Draco’s pointed nose and landing on his dry lips. 

Draco buckled under the scrutiny and crashed his mouth against Potter’s parted one. Potter moaned and deepened it, their tongues meeting and dancing and going home with each other for a fuck. Potter’s hands were on Draco’s neck bringing them closer. Suddenly Potter yelped and broke away. 

“What the hell?!” Potter panted. “Something just . . . shocked me.”

Draco scowled at him. “You tried to mess up my hair.”

“So, you hexed me?”

“No, I’ve hexed my hair to hex anyone who tries to mess it up.”

“Hah,” Potter said, trying to control his breathing. “What have you been drinking? It tastes funny.”

“Vermouth,” Draco partly lied. “It’s a dry wine.” 

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing your hair stopped me. We really should be going.” 

Potter retrieved a pan from the kitchen, hooked their arms together and sucked Draco along to the Weasleys. 


	2. Dinner and Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets insulted and makes a new friend.

Two hours later, Draco sat scowling at a plant. His glare was so toxic, the flowers were beginning to welt. Let’s just say, Draco’s appearance did not provoke the reactions one wishes for. The best greeting Draco received was from pole-up-the-arse Percy, and that spoke for itself really.

Although somewhat expected, no one could have predicted his weapon of choice, as Ronald Weasley had tried to run Draco through with a garden spade. Granger had spent every second since Draco’s advent suspiciously scrutinizing him. Arthur Weasley attempted to lure Draco into a dingy old shed for lock up. Ha! As if Draco could ever be tempted by something stupid and muggle. George Weasley had mocked Draco’s artful bun and in return received a nasty hex. Charlie Weasley tricked Draco into a false sense of security with his kind words, and then thumped Draco on the back so hard he nearly split in two. Bill Weasley ignored Draco completely, in favor of chasing around his ill-mannered child. Fleur Weasley turned up her nose as she daintily shook Draco’s hand. Clearly, the witch was jealous. Even with Veela allure on her side, Draco was much more attractive. 

Just when Draco had been sure it couldn’t get any worse, Molly Weasley walked in from the kitchen and saw Draco cowering like a hunted rabbit in the middle of her pack of savage weasels. 

Without leaving a beat of silence for Draco to respond, Mrs. Wealsey said, “oh, Draco Malfoy dear! How lovely it is to see you, and to find out that our Harry here has himself such a handsome young lad to keep him company.” At that point, she paused only to overwhelm Draco with a powerful hug. “Oh, but look at you. You’re too skinny! All skin and bones—“

Draco had finally had enough. “Excuse me,” Draco said as he removed her from his person. “I am a perfect specimen of the human body, as you can clearly see. I can only assume you were being purposefully obtuse, to make your sons feel better about their lesser beauty.”

The pack had stared at Draco, and then blinked as a collective. 

“Er,” Harry chuckled nervously. “Don’t be a git, Draco.”

Draco’s jaw dropped open in disbelief, but before he could protest a bell sounded and he was shuffled toward the kitchen by a hungry pack, leaving Draco with no chance of hopping to safety.

Admittedly, dinner was delicious, and Draco was free from any thumping. However, as soon as everybody had their fill, the talking began again. Draco was insulted, laughed at, and asked invasive questions. Anytime Draco responded, Harry always looked at Draco as if he was sad, confused, or disappointed. At least Patrick had thought Draco’s cleverness was hilarious. 

Hence, Draco sneaking away when Harry was deep in discussion with Ronald. Draco ended up on a stoop that led to a garden. Draco was impatiently keeping track of how long it took Potter to come find him. Sure, being with Harry Potter had a lot of benefits, but Draco wasn’t so desperate to exploit them that he’d let Potter treat him as anything less than a prince. 

Footsteps had Draco perking. Expecting Harry, Draco was startled when thin, bare legs stopped next to him. 

“Drink?” Ginevra offered him a martini glass. “I always BYOB family gatherings. Harry managed to pause his rant for a second to point out that you like martinis too. With the way he gestured, I’m pretty sure he still thought you were standing next to him.” 

Of course, there was girl-Weasley! How had Draco forgotten? She was hot-headed, and everyone in Slytherin had been wary of her quick casting and powerful hexes. 

Draco took the glass and slid over so she could join him on the ground. 

“Thank you,” Draco practically moaned as he took a large gulp. He usually drank dry, not dirty ones but at this point he would have settled for gin straight from the bottle. “I can see why you need alcohol around here. Your family is – is – is – “

“Overbearing?” Ginevra supplied. “Nosy? Irritating? Savagely nice?”

“Yes!” Draco nodded enthusiastically. 

“I know right,” she rolled her eyes. “Here I am, with a fascinating career, in the middle of an amazing season, and what are mum’s first words to me? No ‘how’s it been.’ Not even a ‘good to see you alive.’ Just ‘you’re late.’”

“She called me too skinny,” Draco scowled. 

Noticing that both their glasses were already empty, Ginevra summoned a shaker, the fifth of gin, vermouth, and olivebrine. She swiftly caught one item after the next, and then went about mixing a new batch. Draco was impressed with her hand-eye coordination and could easily see how she’d become such a successful athlete. 

They drank in companionable silence for a while. On their third glass, they started gossiping about the others inside. This quickly led to gossiping about the whole Wizarding World. Draco was pleased to find out she’d somewhat shed her fiery temper and gained some serious wit. 

“I don’t think Harry really likes me,” Draco said once he had enough liquid courage. “I mean, obviously, I know I can be rude, but I really felt victimized in there and he didn’t stick up for me at all.”

“No, he probably does,” Ginny shook her head. “It’s just . . . Harry thinks my family is perfect. He honestly doesn’t understand how they can seem to outsiders.”

“Have you ever brought a date home?”

“Once, and never will I again . . .” Draco settled in for what was sure to be a truly interesting story. 

By the time Harry found them, they were both red in the face with laughter and the fifth was empty.

“Oh!” Draco sneered as he saw Harry hovering there. “Here’s Potty now. Well, too bad I’ve already found better company.”

Ginny nodded, and Draco was pleased. 

Harry only sighed and vanished the empty fifth. “Gin,” he said. “You only come home twice a month. Must you really spend the time worrying your mother to death?”

“She started it,” Ginny snapped. “And you have room to talk? This is your first date with Draco and you let the others walk all over him! And on that point, why would you bring him here in the first place? Don’t you like him? Sure, he might have a bit of an attitude but he’s the hottest thing you’ll ever have a chance to pull, you fat arse! You would think he deserved the best champagne and strawberries that money can buy, not being stuck in mum’s ruddy garden with me.”

“Er,” Harry said. 

“Merlin, you’re hopeless,” Ginny sighed. “Power, money, a decent face . . . yet a complete dimwit when it comes to romance.”

“But he does have a nice cock,” Draco supplied, and then scowled. “Not that that means I’ll let you treat me like shit, Potter.”

“How did I treat you badly, Draco?” Harry growled. “You’re the one who snuck out here and got completely plastered with Ginny!”

“Snuck out?” Draco laughed. “Right. I couldn’t have just walked from the room without anyone noticing. I was trying to be sneaky. Of course.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Also, I’m not plastered, Potter. I was plastered last night at the pub. Now I’m feeling considerably tipsy.”

“And,” Ginny cut in as Draco and Harry began to glare at one another. “You, Harry, didn’t notice! Hell, we finished off that whole bottle before you came looking.”

Harry broke their glaring contest and looked at the ground. “I . . . was caught up trying to prove a point. I thought Draco finally started a conversation with someone.”

“I did,” Draco smirked.

“He did,” Ginny agreed. 

Harry turned his anger back on Ginny. “You could at least wait until your mum’s in bed to start drinking. You know how worried she is about you. Twice a month is all she gets, Gin! And the first thing you always do is snap at her and have a drink!”

“Well, she won’t have to worry anymore!” Ginny shouted, her temper seemed to reignite around other Gryffindors. “Cause it’s all over! I’ll be home for good this time!”

Harry blinked at her, astonished. Like a cat hunting a feather, Draco’s eyes flicked from Ginny’s angry expression to Potter’s blank one. 

“What?” Harry eventually whispered. 

“I’m done,” Ginny croaked, shook, and then visibly hardened. “Out for the rest of the season. Everyone knows what that means.”

“What happened?”

“There was an accident at practice. Broke my spine. They could heal me completely, but the breaking point will be vulnerable for quite a while. I’m not allowed on a broom for at least six months.”

“Oh, Gin—“

“Don’t do that. I don’t want pity. I want to fucking party and forget I’ll be stuck in this house for the foreseeable future.”

“When are you going to tell them?” Harry asked. 

“I guess I’ll have to tomorrow.”

Silence descended upon the trio again, until Draco cleared his throat and spoke.

“So, you coming, Potter?”

“Where?” Harry was honestly so dense sometimes. 

“You heard her: she wants a party,” Draco smirked. “I’ve just decided I’m treating this lovely lady to an evening out. I have a special routine for occasions such as these. I call it Draco’s Dash to Disremember. So, I repeat, will you be joining us?”

“Draco’s Dash?” Harry repeated, looking skeptically at not only Draco, but Ginny as well. 

“Come on, Harry,” Draco purred, half pout, half lusty look eating at his features. “Ginny deserves to get hammered. I’ll admit, I cannot be trusted to be responsible. We’ll need you to keep us from doing something too stupid.”

Still unsure, but captured by his lover and former lover’s wide, hopeful eyes, Harry returned in the house to give news of their departure. Draco already had his portkey ready. He had a portkey into his favorite London strip of bars, and one that would return him home. After accidently splinching his ear last year while trying to drunkenly apparate, Draco had taken a few days to learn how to make portkeys. 

Never mind that they were supposed to Ministry regulated. What was Potter going to do, tattle on him?

When Draco spotted Harry returning, he frowned and stopped fondling his silver band. Harry was wearing jeans and T-shirt, but unlike Draco’s similar attire, they were old, ugly, and stained. Ginny had on a short dress of black velvet and would fit in perfectly at any muggle club.

“Harry . . .” Draco said. “Do you want to go by your place and change? If not, I know some really good altering charms and you could borrow some of my clothes.”

“What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?” So, dense, dense, dense, Draco’s new boyfriend was.

“We’re going clubbing, Harry!” Draco was deprived his indignant reply by Ginny who seemed as equally scandalized as Draco felt. “You can’t wear those old rags!”

“Rags?” Potter growled. 

“Don’t you have something a little less . . . wrinkled?” Draco asked. “And I know you’re self-conscious of your weight, but, honestly, wearing clothes three sizes too large does not make you look any smaller, Harry.”

“Oh, whatever,” Harry said, and Ginny and Draco exchanged a panicked glance. “Either I wear this or I don’t go at all—“

“Stupefy!” – “Wingardium Leviosa!”

Draco and Ginny cackled and gave a high five. Latching one hand to Harry’s limp leg and the other around Ginny’s arm, Draco sucked them all back to his place. 


	3. Luna

Twenty minutes later, they landed in a dirty alley. Since it was still early in the evening, Draco started their dash at a pub. Harry wore a scowl as they walked into the dim establishment and selected a table. Draco easily ignored said scowl because Harry also wore fitted black jeans, an untucked green button-down with a neatly pressed collar, and lace-up leather boots. They ordered some cheesy bread for substance and started on shots instead of mixed drinks. Except for Harry, who nursed a pint of lager.

Draco couldn’t stop staring at Harry wearing Draco’s modified clothes. Harry was built much differently than Patrick, and the tight jeans and shirt highlighted those differences more than the baggy clothes Harry always wore. 

Sure, one could call Harry fat, but his skin was firm, and while most people his weight would have a bit of flab, Harry was simply made up of thick, wide planes of golden skin that hid solid muscle. In fact, it was almost ironic how knobby-kneed Harry Potter had grown up to look quite like the two minions Draco had used to bully Potter for over half their lives, and which Harry had despised them for it.

Like Draco’s old best friends, Harry wasn’t the Hollister model most gay men hoped for, but Draco’s brain must be wired differently than the others. When Draco looked at a man like Harry, he saw a tough, virile wizard who could potentially worship the ground Draco walked on and stay loyal to Draco until the very end. That was a sexy combination. 

As the man in question rose to fetch them another two shots, Draco found his gaze following Harry’s round arse wondering if he’d ever be inclined to top for Harry, or if Harry would ever want Draco to do that. Would Draco even care if he bottomed for Harry Potter the rest of his life? Probably not, Draco concluded, there was just something about bottoming—

“Do you really find him attractive?” Ginny asked, and Draco flushed as he realized where she’d caught him staring. 

“Of course,” Draco replied. “I wouldn’t be sleeping with him if I didn’t.” 

“He’s changed so much,” Ginny muttered, looking after Harry as he leaned against the bar waiting for service. “Physically and mentally.” 

“Do you find him attractive?” Draco couldn’t tell if he was jealous or not. It was a very odd feeling. 

“No,” Ginny sighed out sadly. “I’ll always believe that deep down Harry’s one of the best men the world has to offer, but he doesn’t show it these days.” She suddenly smirked. “Besides, I like Quidditch players. I think watching Harry play turned me on more than snogging him.” 

Draco laughed, relieved that she comforted his almost-fear. 

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked he set their drinks down and reclaimed his seat. Harry’s arm slid slyly along the back of Draco’s chair and Draco had to use the small amount of sober he had left to keep from purring at the handsome man. 

“Nothing—“ Draco started to say but was cut off by a hot pocket. “Oh, goody!” Draco squealed and pulled out his communication device. 

“Is that – you have a mobile?” Harry said, seemingly in disbelief. 

“No,” Draco explained, then left Harry stewing as he read Luna’s message. Still need? It said, and Draco smirked. “It looks like one, though. Excuse me, I need to use the loo.” 

Once secure in a stall, Draco pulled out his wand and tapped it against the device. A minute later, it turned warm again. Meet me at Lindy’s, was Luna’s reply. 

Smiling, Draco opened the door, stepped out, and ran straight into Harry’s large chest. 

“Well, hello,” Draco said dryly. 

“Were you talking to Patrick, then?” Harry said, his voice was flat but Draco could see the anger in his green eyes. 

“No,” Draco said slowly. It wouldn’t be good to crack a smile now and let Harry know how much his jealousy made Draco’s tummy flutter. Draco wouldn’t want Harry to discover too many of Draco’s kinks too fast. Vanilla guy like him might just run off. “It was Luna. I asked her earlier if she could get something for me and she just replied. I had to use my wand to reply back to her.” 

“Oh,” Harry said. “You talk to Luna?” 

“We aren’t best mates, but she likes me enough to get me a good deal,” Draco said as he slid past Harry and made to rejoin Ginny at their table. 

“A deal on what?” Harry asked but Draco acted like he hadn’t heard. 

“Time to move on!” Draco grinned at his new redheaded friend. “Harry, have you paid for all this?” 

“Er, yeah.” 

“Then let’s go.” 

Lindy’s was only a short walk from the pub. Any time Luna was in muggle London, she would most-likely be caught at Lindy’s lesbian bar. Draco still wasn’t sure if Luna was actually homosexual or if she just liked the strange wallpaper the place had. 

Of course, a bouncer stopped them at the door. She was much bigger than Draco, and Draco had a feeling she could even give the boy who lived a run for his money. 

“Sorry lads, no men allowed,” then she spotted Ginny behind their shoulders. “Cute redhead is more than welcomed though.” 

“Sasha, isn’t it?” Draco asked the bouncer. She nodded. “I’m Draco. Luna’s friend, remember?” 

“Oh, Luna’s friend!” She brightened visibly. “Of course, come in! Come in! She’s at her regular table.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Draco!” Luna greeted. “You’ve brought friends. How lovely!”

“Luna,” Draco smiled and kissed her hand. “You know Harry and Ginny,” Draco said as he gestured to them. “We are out on a Draco Dash tonight.”

“Oh, fun!” Luna exclaimed. “I thought you just wanted to stop wallowing in self-pity over Patrick, but I see you’ve found another suitable distraction.”

“How did you know –“ Draco started then said, “you know what? Never mind. I don’t care.”

“Oh, Draco,” Luna chuckled. “I do admire your complete self-absorption.”

She said it with the most innocent wide eyes and adoring smile, too. The thing about Luna, she was akin to Severus Snape in back-handed compliments, and Draco admired her for it. 

“And you for your enthusiasm and manners,” Draco said dryly. “Now, may we have a seat?”

“Be my guest,” Luna said, and they all found a seat in the comfy, circular booth. “Have you gone over the rules yet, Draco?” 

“Nope,” Draco said. “This is our first stop, and we already did pregame at the pub.”

“Goody,” Luna said. “The rules go like this . . .”


	4. Draco's Comeback

_1\. Must drink at least one bottle of water in between each club._

“What was in those drinks Luna gave us?” Ginny said as she strolled happily from Lindy’s. “I feel great.”

“Lesbian love,” Draco said with a snicker. “And assorted fruits.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have had one,” Harry said. “I’m drunk already.”

“Harry, when I said you would be responsible,” Draco replied. “I meant you would be a responsible drunk. I didn’t mean for you to remain sober and babysit us. It’s not like you have to drive.”

“I don’t know,” Ginny cut in. “Harry can be pretty prideful when he’s drunk. Better hope no one picks a fight with him.”

Gods, did Harry just get sexier by the minute? Draco wondered.

“I do not!” Harry said.

“Do too,” Ginny said.

“I could see it,” Draco said.

“Okay, maybe,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “But not like you think . . . not about Voldemort and shit.”

“Of course not,” Draco snorted out a laugh, perhaps a bit more drunk than he’d realized. “The one thing you should be prideful about you seem embarrassed about.”

“Shut up,” Harry said, but he flashed Draco a smile. 

Draco smiled back and went for his bag. Draco reached and his whole arm disappeared inside the small satchel. Draco pulled out three bottles of water and handed one each to Harry and Ginny. 

“Drink up,” Draco grinned widely. “The night has officially begun.”

By the time they reached their next destination, the water bottles were empty. Harry and Gunny eyed the long queue skeptically, but Draco ignored it and cut to the front. 

“Eddy, love,” Draco greeted offering up his hand to be kissed.

“Draco!” the dark-haired man shouted in shock, then quickly took Draco’s offered hand, and brought it to his lips for a short kiss. “It’s been ages. How are you?”

“I’m great, my friend,” Draco said. “Anything special going on tonight?”

“Just an up and coming DJ everyone’s been raving about,” Eddy said, as he stepped aside and let them through. “Have fun, Draco! Hope to see you around here more!”

The next club they stepped into was nothing like Lindy’s had been. The whole area—from the forty-foot ceiling to the dance floor to the bar that wrapped around three-fourths of the perimeter—was alit with a neon phosphorescent glow. Writhing bodies molded to the wobbly beat spun by a shirtless DJ who was raised up high so everyone could see him even through the mass of dancers. 

“Fuck, yes!” Draco practically moaned as he soaked up the environment. Patrick had especially hated this club, and Draco hadn’t been here since they’d started dating. 

Ginny seemed in awe, but pleased. Harry, on the other hand, seemed as if he may be suffering from an aneurism. 

_2\. Always stick together. Have a plan of action when splitting apart._

“Harry!” Draco had to shout to be heard. “You wait in line for drinks. I’ll find us a clean table. Ginny!” Draco averted his attention to the awed girl. “You stay in the middle and don’t lose either of us. When Harry has the drinks, lead him to our table!”

“Okay!” Ginny grinned. Draco made to leave but was stopped by a hand around his wrist. 

Harry looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he said, “what kind of drinks?”

“I trust you,” Draco leaned in close so he could whisper in Harry’s ear. “Anything but lager.”

“Kay,” Harry whispered back and let him go. 

Draco found an empty, if slightly dirty table, and claimed it. He couldn’t see Harry, but Ginny’s red hair was easy to spot. Tapping his fingers to the beat, Draco waited patiently for his company to return. He was all smile, simply pleased to be back in one of his favorite places. 

“Heya,” a cute man was suddenly standing in front of Draco. He eyed the man’s long legs and toned chest beneath his tight shirt. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“You may,” Draco said politely. “But I’m here with my boyfriend.”

Huffing, the man stomped off. Draco laughed at his retreating form. 

Soon Harry and Ginny were back at the table with a tray of drinks. It seemed as if Harry had gotten enough drinks to last them for the rest of the night. 

Ginny must have noticed how Draco eyed the tray filled with an assortment of shot glasses, because she said, “he’s scared of the bartender. Didn’t want to make the trip twice.”

Draco laughed aloud, wondering which of the flamboyant boys had managed to scare off the man who’d defeated the Dark Lord. 

“What did he look like?” Draco asked a still-blushing Harry. Over at their table, it was a bit quieter, but Draco still had to talk quite loud. 

“She,” Harry emphasized. “Wore a tiny little golden bikini and was awfully . . . touchy.”

Draco frowned. Surely, they wouldn’t have fired one of the regular bartenders and hired a female. Perhaps they’d needed more bartenders and couldn’t find a hunky gay man and had to settle?

“Let’s do a shot,” Draco said as he picked up one of the small glasses. “Then I want to go investigate. Stay here with the table for a minute.”

They clanked their glasses together and drank. Before the other two had recovered, Draco was out of his seat and walking toward the bar. When he reached it, he looked all around for a female pouring drinks. Finally, he spotted her and made his way to her part of the counter. As soon as Draco had her attention, he smiled a wide happy smile.

“Jamie!” Draco gushed. “Oh my god, you look great! When did you start?”

“About six months ago,” Jamie smiled back at Draco. “Do you like?”

Draco watched in fascination as Jamie gave a twirl. Draco could still tell it was Jamie, because they’d known each other quite well. However, Jamie looked completely different. Gone were the rigid lines to be replaced by soft, fatty curves. Makeup did wonders to Jamie’s cheekbones and lips. Even Jamie’s sandy blonde hair and been cut and styled in a cute bob. 

“I love it!” Draco assured. “You’re beautiful! I just can’t believe I’ve been gone long enough for you to . . .” Draco trailed off and looked around, not sure if he should finish his sentence in case it was offensive. 

“Become a female?” Jamie smiled, assuring Draco that she was casual with the ordeal. “Yeah, that Patrick had you under lock and key, eh?”

Draco groaned. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I’ve found someone else now. In fact, you just scared him into ordering enough drinks to fuel an army.”

Jamie laughed, clearly remembering Harry. “Oh, that one was precious . . . and handsome,” Jamie smirked. “You always did have a type.”

Draco laughed, pleased at the way she stated Draco’s attraction to bigger men. 

“So, if I may be so bold,” Draco said. “Do you plan to go all the way?”

“No!” Jamie said. “I’m a sissy, for sure! I can’t imagine losing my package. Though the small tits I’ve grown are quite nice, don’t you think?”

Draco nodded. “Do they hurt?”

“Sometimes,” Jamie shrugged. “Only—“

“Hey!” a drunk man had made his way next to Draco. “I want my keys back!”

“Sorry, Draco,” Jamie said. “I’ve got to deal with this. Don’t get lost again, okay? I’m off next weekend, come back.”

“Definitely.” 

Draco returned to the table with a smile on his face. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Ginny asked as Draco reclaimed his seat.

“Oh yes,” Draco assured. “I reconnected with an old friend named Jamie. He—she’s the one who scared Harry.”

“He—she?” Harry questioned. 

“I meant she,” Draco emphasized. “Jamie’s transitioned. I met him up here before I dated Patrick. I knew Jamie when he was fully a guy still.”

“I knew a girl could never be so . . .”

“Forward?” Draco supplied. 

“Something like that,” Harry huffed, and Ginny and Draco laughed at Harry’s awkwardness. 

A few shots later, Ginny accepted a couple’s request to dance with them, and Draco, getting his hopes up, asked Harry if he would like to join them. Looking panicked, Harry declined with a shout to which Draco just stared back. 

“I mean,” Harry started, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t dance.”

“Fuck,” Draco said. Draco really liked Harry, but Draco would not get himself into another relationship where he had to change to make his partner happy. 

“You could—I mean, that is—I could just wait . . . here?”

Hot flush ran up Draco’s neck and his cock hardened instantly. “You mean like, watch me?”

“Yeah.”

“With other guys?”

“Um, yeah,” Harry said, his blush deepening even under the neon pink bulb lighting their table. “Er, sorry if that freaks you out—“

“No, no I like it. I do,” Draco assured and handed Harry his satchel.

_4\. Sweat out your regrets._

Draco had started to sweat the moment he walked from the table and felt Harry’s eyes on his back. By the forth song, Draco was drenched from his own constant movement and the other bodies grinding against him. By then, the hands pulling off Draco’s shirt were completely welcomed. The heat and loud music had Draco feeling every single drop of alcohol in his blood, and he couldn’t help but smile as the world flashed around him – a blur of neon, skin, and homosexuality. 

I was born for this, Draco thought, and I won’t ever stop again.


	5. The Stall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a chapter due to smut. 
> 
> There wasn't supposed to be smut, but Draco's been feeling extra submissive as of late.

_“Rule number five is just for Draco,”_ Luna’s voice rang through Draco’s brain over the thumping beat. _“Don’t piss your pants on the dance floor.”_

With that wisdom, Draco scurried toward the bathroom. 

After using the loo, Draco turned around and ran into Harry’s broad form. 

“Hi,” Draco greeted.

“Hey,” Harry replied, his voice deliciously husky. “You’re a great dancer.”

“I know,” Draco said and then Harry kissed him on the mouth. In no time at all, they were aggressively snogging against the locked stall door. 

_This is not about losing yourself in some nameless dick or fanny. The dash is all about improving your life with alcohol, drugs, and endorphins. So, no hook-ups during a dash._

Draco groaned—in the painful way—and pushed Harry away. “Harry. We can’t. Stop.”

Harry groaned in reply. “Come on, Draco,” Harry pleaded. “You’re so hot, and perfect, and I’m hardly random dick, am I right?”

“Right, but—”

“And isn’t this night for Ginny disrememberment?”

“I don’t think that’s a word, Potter,” Draco said. “Now back up.”

“No,” Harry said, taking a step forward and pressing their erections together. 

“Come on, Harry,” Draco said breathily. “You’re not one of those guys who can’t take no for answer, are you?”

“But you like it.”

“Fuck, yes,” Draco said, and moaned as they began to move together. 

Draco fell pliant between the metal door and Harry’s big body. Instantly, his pores began to fill with sweat again and he could feel his face blushing hot from arousal. The moment Harry touched him, Draco’s blood had began to fill his trapped cock. Now, as their hips banged together in a drunken dance, Draco felt like a steel bat ready to swing.

Draco moaned Harry’s name over and over, unable to help himself, and not truly wanting to stop either. Harry’s movements grew bolder with every gasp of his name, and soon Draco found his face pressed against the cool metal of the stall with Harry a pressing and groping presence against his backside. Thick hands worked diligently, one grabbing Draco’s hair to bare his neck, the other slipping inside his trousers and parting his arse cheeks. 

Draco quickly used the last of his sense to undo his fly and push his trousers around his knees, baring himself to Harry’s probing fingers as much as he could. Hot breath and a wet mouth assaulted Draco’s neck, and Draco swore he felt the lavish touch of Harry’s tongue along every nerve in his body. Panting like a crup in heat, Draco had never felt more submissive as he did then, humping the dirty metal in front of him as he felt his insides magically slick with lube. 

Fuck, Draco loved it. 

“Yes, Harry!” Draco screamed, unable to care about their public location any longer. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”

With a chuckle that seemed to say Harry was only humoring him, Draco felt all of Harry’s hardness slam into his body at once. Five inches seemed like so much more as Harry began to pound ruthlessly into Draco’s loosening passage. The force behind each thrust knocked Draco’s head against the wall, but that felt good too. Draco served up his last mental ability before his orgasm to thank Merlin that Harry only needed a bit of liquor to stop caring about his weight and use all of it to fuck Draco into oblivion. 

Then Draco came harder than he ever had in his life. Harry instantly stilled and throbbed inside Draco, who, in his drunken state could have used a few more minutes to thoroughly sate him. Oh whatever, Draco thought, we will just have to work on Harry’s stamina. 

Harry waved their mess away, and then Draco stumbled out of the tiny stall with a huge grin eating his face. Draco hopped up on the sink, world spinning as he came down from the sweet high Harry had induced. 

“Er, you okay?” Harry asked. “You’re leaning a bit.”

Draco shrugged and made grabby hands at his satchel that was slung across Harry’s chest. Harry didn’t seem to understand, and brought his whole self to slot between Draco’s parted legs. 

“Thank you,” Draco said anyway, and reached into his bag to search for one of the potions Luna had given him. With a triumphant trill, Draco’s hand emerged with the sparkly pink bottle and he uncapped it and took a big swig. The rest he held up to Harry’s lips. 

Rearing back, Harry asked, “what the hell is that?”

Already feeling the effects, Draco just smirked and pushed Harry back a few inches, so he could slide around the bigger man. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Harry Potter?” Draco drawled as he left the bathroom. With the potion spreading through his blood stream, Draco was revived from the deep and tiring fuck Harry had just laid upon him. Grinning like a cat with a belly full of cream, Draco danced his way through the crowd until he found Ginny in the middle of a group of grinding bisexuals. She looked to be having a great time. 

Maybe too great of a time, after all the dash was not about forgetting your woes in a bed full of cock. 

Draco slithered his way next to her and pressed the bottle to her lips. “Drink,” he said, and she did. The effect was almost instantaneous and it made Draco remember his first time trying the potion.

Her eyes blew wide, her arms clinched to her sides, and her face slowly broke out into a smile much too wide for her thin face. 

“Ohmymerlin,” she groaned as she fell into his waiting arms and pressed her face into his sweaty collar. “Did you just sex me via potion?”

“No,” he laughed. “But the night has just begun. You looked to need a pick-me-up. Come on. We’re moving on after one last drink.”

“Kay,” she slurred and let Draco pull her away from the dance floor.


	6. The Agreement

Draco, though not officially, was a potions master. He had had all the training, and was set to start his apprenticeship, when the one who taught Draco all he knew had died in the war.

Even though he never finished, Draco had a potions lab in his flat and still practiced from time to time (mainly brewing Hangover Droughts). However, the potion he and Ginny were relying on for the dash was beyond Draco’s skill set. The creator was a mudblood who had somehow managed to magically enhance the effects of a muggle drug called MDMA. 

One more bottle split between them and Draco and Ginny made it through another two clubs. Harry, on the other hand, refused to drink any of the potion and demanded they return home at a quarter past three in the morning. 

Draco returned them to his flat, and, as they stumbled into the recently cleaned place, Draco stopped Harry to plant a huge, smacking kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you!” Draco gushed. “For being the most wonderful person in the world!”

“Yes,” Ginny agreed while nodding her head frantically. At this point, she was more smile than face, not quite as tolerant as Draco was to the drug. “I love you both so much! Don’t ever change!”

“Er, right,” Harry said in his awkwardly sober way. “Love you too, Gin.”

Soon Harry was snuggled in Draco’s bed fast asleep. 

Ginny and Draco were much too wired to think about bed. Back in the living room, sprawled across the couch with their legs entwined, Draco pulled out his last bottle. They shared it.

“I want to do this forever,” Ginny was crying with happiness. “I want to be here with you forever.”

“I know,” Draco said, feeling the drug rush through his veins and strip away the last of his resistance. “I love everything about this moment. You, Harry, myself. Linky, for cleaning up all my martini glasses.”

Though Draco couldn’t have said why his empty martini glasses had ever been a problem. 

“I _need_ this,” Ginny said, even though her voice sounded sad her face seemed happy. “This freedom! I cannot go back to live with my mum. She smothers me!”

“Freedom!” Draco quickly caught on to the idea. “I know what you mean! Do you know tonight was the first night I’ve gone clubbing in sixth months! And I need clubbing! I’m not good at a lot, but I’m great at clubbing!”

“Why?!” Ginny’s concern was shown in her widening eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“Patrick, that’s why!” Draco stood and started pacing as he pulled out his bun and ran his fingers through his hair. “He acted like my father, but worse because my father doesn’t care about anything anymore, especially me.”

“Oh, Dracooooo! Don’t say that,” Ginny said, patting the recently vacated spot next to her. “Come let me hold you.”

Draco rushed to her like a starved man would to a bowl of mashed potatoes. Ginny held him and petted his tangled hair. Now, they were both smiling madly while tears rolled down their rosy cheeks.

“I am so sorry,” Draco suddenly burst. “For hating you so much. I don’t know how I could ever do the things I did. I am so stupid.”

“We’re all stupid,” Ginny replied with an equally deranged smirk. “I love it. Life just happens, you know. Flows on. Wonderfully. Even the bad stuff.”

“I know,” Draco agreed. “Don’t I know it.”

Ginny got up and began to dance even though there wasn’t music playing. Draco watched, enraptured by her weird movements. 

“We could stay like this,” Draco commented after a moment. “You could stay with me and we could talk about boys and break-ups and bacon all day long.”

“Oh!” Ginny paused her dancing, catching on to the idea. “Yes! And then I wouldn’t have to stay at the burrow. It could be us together like this all the time.”

“No nosy family members!” Draco said. 

“Perfection!” Ginny laughed out the word with delight, and hopped up on the coffee table to twirl around. 

Upon waking up together, with sweat-stained clothes the only barrier between their aching bodies, Ginny and Draco didn’t say a word about their drunken agreement. They just honored it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there is any confusion, this series is strictly drarry. Ginny and Draco don't hook up. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the next part in this series. "Be Ready for the Red-Headed Hussy." In which Luna and a few other friends will make an appearance. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always make the next chapter appear quickly c;


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